


The Boy Who Cries Wolf

by Adamxex123



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse (but not by derek), Bullied Stiles Stilinski, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Depressed Stiles, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Wolf Derek, derek is a wolf for quite some time, sort of, wolves occasionally eat people in this fic okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adamxex123/pseuds/Adamxex123
Summary: Since the death of his mother, Stiles feels completely alone. He has no one to talk to about how he feels; his dad works and drinks continuously and according to Scott, as long as he is happy then Stiles should be happy too.But the large canine in the forest makes him feel emotions other than sadness. In fact, the first sighting causes him to worry for his life instead of wanting it to be over.The fear is what makes him go back the second time.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time he sees the wolf, he's running through the forest half naked, pulse racing in his ears whilst heavy pellets of hail hammer against his shirtless body. There's no point even attempting to retrieve what's left of his shirt. He glances back and sees the tattered remains flapping around from the branch on which they have been skewered. From the corner of his eye he sees two figures, presumably Jackson and Matt round the clearing and he wills himself to run faster - he'd rather freeze out here than be tormented by the two again. He's rather grateful for the temperature, as despite it stinging his skin, his bruises from earlier seem less painful. He's not sure whether becoming numb is a good thing but at the moment he doesn't care, he needs to lose them. The ground he is running on begins to slope downwards and he doesn't register himself falling until he's flat on his face, spitting out dirt from his mouth. The ground smells musty and he rolls over onto his back, wincing in pain as it comes into contact with the hard densely packed earth. He props himself up onto his elbows, only to find Jackson and Matt stalking over towards him.   
  
The bastards. It's like they're playing with him, he's the mouse and they're the cats (it isn't fair, one against two but then again life isn't exactly fair either).  
The pair reach him eventually, both sporting similar expressions. Stiles registers the knife Matt clasps in his right hand and feels his chest constricting because no matter how much Matt abuses him, he wouldn't go as far as using that on him, would he?   
'You should know by now that you can't outrun us', Jackson says. Stiles tries inching back on his elbows but all Jackson does is place his foot on Stiles' chest, pushing him back into the ground onto his injured back. Stiles winces as Jackson kneels down and  _straddles_ him, ass on his chest and his hands clasped around Stiles' biceps, prohibiting upper body movement.   
  
Stiles is dimly aware that his shoes are being removed and he hears the thud of them being thrown. It isn't until Stiles feels the flat edge of the knife against his left foot that he begins to panic.  
'Let me go, let me go, oh god...' he mutters, trying to look past Jackson who is still perched on top of him. He tries kicking his attacker with his right foot but moments later, he feels a weight on both his shins as Matt sits on him, restricting him from moving his legs also.   
'Let's make sure you won't try to run next time, shall we?' Matt chuckles.  
Stiles starts to scream as pain flares up in the sole of his foot and Jackson is off him in a hurry.  
  
'What the fuck Matt!', he yells. Matt cuts further and Stiles is sobbing now, sitting up and pushing himself away. A trail of blood follows.  
'You said the knife was there to scare him, not fucking cause damage!'   
Jackson runs his hands through his hair and paces, sparing Stiles a glance, who is currently trying his hardest to choke back sobs and not look any weaker.  
'Well I wouldn't have if he wasn't a pussy and didn't run', Matt sneers. He glances back down at Stiles and coos.  
'Poor little Stiles'  
He kneels down again and taps the knife. Looking back at Jackson, he snickers and says, 'well, what's done is done' and  _slashes his foot again._  
His screams die out in the heavy downpour of hail and rain. Stiles is praying now - the sole of his foot has been marred terribly and the force of hail causes him more pain. He's never felt pain like this before. Stiles is not a newcomer when it comes to pain - he's tormented on a daily basis, he brings blades to his own skin and relishes in the pain but this pain is so severe and different to self harming that he  _prays_ for it to stop.   
  
He doesn't know how much time passes before he realises that Jackson and Matt haven't moved from their places. Matt hasn't even attempted to hurt him. Both seem to be staring at something behind Stiles with a twisted expression on their faces. Horror. Stiles has never seen that look on either of their faces and when he hears the growl, he can swear he feels his heart stop. It sounds so close,  _so inhuman_ that the pain in Stiles' foot dims into a faint ache as he registers how terrified he is himself.   
Jackson is the first to run. He sprints across the clearing, making a sharp turn into the safety of the trees. Matt inches away slowly and Stiles covers his face just in time before there's a savage snarl and he feels the shift in wind as something jumps over his body. There's a bloodcurdling scream - Stiles can hear the rush of blood in his ears and if he had any ounce of bravery at this point he would have picked himself off the floor and ran as fast as he could even on his injured foot. But Stiles is scared and he can't hear anything because of the shitty hail - which Stiles cannot hear anymore. Apart from the blood rushing to his head, there is an eerie silence. Stiles shivers as a cold breeze blasts him.  
  
He sighs in relief upon raising his head as whatever seemed to scare the pair off isn't present. He shakily lifts himself off the ground, putting his weight on his good foot and remaining on his toes for his injured foot. In order to minimalise pain, he turns around slowly and is glad that he did so, because barely a metre away is a large Black canine. It's unlike any dog Stiles has seen before, it's pure black with a bulky frame and is  _too large to be a fucking dog._  Stiles freezes and slowly begins to back away, ignoring the sudden flare of pain in his foot. The canine growls and its eyes narrow, a pale green bearing into dark brown.   
Though it is said that the last of the wolves died out in the late 1920's, Stiles is almost certain that the thing he is currently facing is indeed, a wolf. And judging by its size, this wolf could tear Stiles apart without an issue. The wolf bares its teeth at Stiles and fixes its gaze on him once more before leaping across the clearing. Before Stiles can think about trying to escape, it lands closer to him than it had been before and drops a bundle at his bare feet.   
  
Stiles looks down in surprise to find his trainers, which have become slightly dirty due to the wet mud. The wolf growls and nudges the trainers closer to Stiles who still doesn't know what to do.  
  
The wolf snarls and gnashes its teeth impatiently. Either the animal wants Stiles to put on the shoes or it's waiting for him to move before it rips him to shreds. Stiles holds his breath as he locks his eyes with the wolf. Tentatively, he places his non injured foot in the shoe, doing the same with his injured foot, hissing as the wounds brush against the fabric.   
The action seems to satisfy the animal and Stiles feels a cold nose press against his back, nudging him forward. He hobbles along like a toddler, his legs shaking from pain and fear. His stomach grumbles with hunger and his face itches due to the drying mud. He doesn't know where the wolf is leading him to and his thoughts do nothing to quell his fear.   
'If my purpose is to be your all you can eat item or feed your pups I'm warning you I taste bad', he mutters. The wolf huffs as if it understands and tickles Stiles' back with warm air. So far, Stiles has been getting pushed in the same direction and he really wonders if he is to be the wolf's next meal because why hasn't he been eaten yet? Maybe the wolf wants to play with him first before eating him. It's funny, Stiles thinks because he's transitioned from being Matt and Jackson's catch to being the wolf's dinner. He feels the wolf nudge him and growl low.  
  
_This is it,_ he thinks.   
  
Then the wolf trots away from Stiles to a small bush. It raises a paw and scratches its face, followed by growling at Stiles and then the bush. It gnashes its teeth impatiently. Receiving no response from Stiles, it bounds back up to him and snarls, once again pressing its cold nose against his back and pushing him with much more force towards the bush. As Stiles gets closer, he notices a small black pile on top of the bush. The wolf removes itself from Stiles' back and nudges his hand, causing Stiles to flinch because  _he values this hand very much thank you._    
When the wolf makes it clear that no, it does not want to eat Stiles' hand, Stiles reaches for the pile and realises that he's presented with clothes.  
There's a large pair of black sweatpants and under it is a black t shirt. Under the t shirt is a pair of pants (which Stiles would rather not touch) and a pair of socks. He notices a pair of boots hidden within the leaves. The wolf growls at Stiles again and judging by the earlier incident with the shoes, Stiles assumes that the wolf wants him to wear the clothes. He glances back down at the garments in his hand before putting down the sweatpants and shrugging on the t shirt. As expected, the shirt is too large and Stiles oddly feels embarrassed. The material of the sweatpants is stretchy so Stiles has little trouble fitting his his feet into them despite wearing shoes. He places his wet trousers on the ground. The wolf growls again and swipes at the bush repeatedly until the pants fall to the floor.   
  
Stiles turns and shakes his head, pointing towards the pants he is wearing under the sweats. He isn't as afraid as he initially was but this is still a wild animal, let alone one that could tear him up anytime it wanted and probably still has plans on doing so. The wolf huffs and studies Stiles.   
Stiles doesn't understand how the wolf knew he needed clothes or how it knew where they were. Perhaps the canine had been a pet to someone earlier?   
Beacon Hills is a small town though. Word of a wolf would have spread like wildfire - it's possible that some wolves may have survived the killing and bred in Beacon Hills. Back in the 1920's, it is said that the wolves of Beacon Hills began to grow accustomed to the human way of life and became used to having humans around, thus prompting them into attacking the townspeople.  
Stiles isn't sure how long the lifespan of a wolf is but if this is a wolf from the 1920's then... that must make it almost 100 years old? That doesn't seem right and so far, the wolf hasn't physically harmed Stiles, so it's likely to be young.  
Or maybe - the wolf bares its teeth at Stiles, halting his thoughts. It inches closer and nips at his arm, drawing a small amount of blood, causing Stiles to yelp. It nips again until Stiles begins backing away from the wolf. Once there is a significant amount of space between Stiles and the wolf, it sits back on its hind legs and growls, eyes glinting from the setting sun.   
Shit. If the sun is setting, Stiles should have been home minutes ago. He eyes the wolf one last time as he turns around, making sure one final time that it has nothing sinister planned before he walks as fast as he can out of the forest.  
  
It takes him over half an hour to emerge from the forest as after all, he did run quite a distance. He would have sprinted home but unfortunately he can't due to his injury on his foot and as he begins walking up the main road he pulls out his phone and waits for the signal. Once it comes through, Stiles' notifications show four missed calls from his dad and a multitude of messages. He sighs and flicks through his contacts, finding Scott's name.  
Scott picks up after two rings.   
'Hey man, can you cover for me?'


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, i'm sorry for updating really late  
> i can't even promise when the next update will be, i'm just always so demotivated with everything and my depression has been acting up since college started so try to excuse me, thanks  
> i know how irritating it can be to constantly wait around in hope that the next chapter may have been uploaded, for that i'm sorry  
> but anyway, all negativity aside i hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Stiles winces as he tugs his bag over his shoulders, feeling the weight of the bag applying pressure on the new bruises he received from earlier on from a group of jocks who all mysteriously seemed to fall on him. He has a pounding headache and he hasn't eaten all day but it's not as if he eats much. He cannot be dealing with Scott right now, who failed to get him superglue from his mums old toolbox and is now chasing after Allison with a dopey grin plastered onto his face. Fair enough, if he had told Scott that he needed the glue because he wanted to glue together the incisions that Matt had carved into his foot,  _maybe_ Scott wouldn't have forgotten to bring it but then again Stiles doesn't think Scott would be willing to let Stiles glue himself up at the expense of getting an infection. Stiles snorts. Scott's got his head so far up Allison's ass he fails to notice the important occurrences that surround him. Like how his best friend is a victim of bullying, for example.  
  
He had to steal a supply of superglue from the art department.  _Steal._ Stiles absolutely does not  _steal._ Apart from that time when he snuck into his dads office whilst his dad dealt with two rowdy teenagers outside the station. It had been purely for research and Stiles just wanted to know if the material used for bank notes would absorb water faster than the normal A4 sheets of paper his dad used in the printers. Apparently dollar bills and pound notes were made of cotton and linen. Stiles was pretty sure that because the notes were made up of the same material as his clothes, the notes would absorb more water and remain strong, just like his jumpers. Boy, was he wrong. He was only six and he had never owned 'paper money' before so he had no idea that they would become a sopping pile of green sludge. He still remembers the screech which came from his dad's throat. He remembers the shouting, the rough grip on his wrist and his dads red face. He hadn't said a word to Stiles for a week after that and would have prolonged this act if Stiles hadn't had the worst panic attack of the decade. It was slightly worse than when his mum died and Stiles didn't even know it was possible to feel worse than he had back then. His dad had held him through the worst of the attack, his face reddening with shame as he watched his son convulse in his arms. Each time Stiles looks back on that memory he can't help but feel guilty - guilty of letting something which was nowhere near significant as his mothers death work him up even more than he had at her funeral.  
  
He had voiced this thought to Scott when they had one of their first emotional moments together. Scott's father had left his wife and child in a rather large home with very little money and two boys who bullied Scott had told him that his mum would have to put him up for adoption. Scott, who was 7 at the time tried hard not to cry and promptly broke down when Stiles was showing him a new paper aeroplane he had made. Stiles had hugged Scott behind the little benches in the playground, letting him know that the boys were just being mean and that his mum would never put him up for adoption as she loved him so much. Scott had asked Stiles about his mum, a sensitive topic which wasn't usually brought up but seemed fit for the time being. When Stiles mentioned his feeling of guilt to Scott, Scott had broken down again and told Stiles that there was no reason to feel bad and that his mum was probably looking down at him from above, wishing that her son would smile and be happy.   
  
The idea that his mum may be watching over him caused Stiles to feel much better and he gave his paper plane to Scott, who looked at Stiles with wide eyes as if Stiles had presented him with the world. As Stiles grew older, the idea that his mother was watching over him began to seem impossible and the guilt came roaring back just as quick as it had gone. It seems stupid every time Stiles thinks about it because he knows from someone else's point of view, it would be seen as something minor but Stiles has always been a sensitive person. It's a pity he doesn't have anyone to talk to about his emotions anymore, with his dad working long shifts, returning home with bags under his eyes and with Scott practically melting into a puddle every time he lays his eyes on Allison.  
  
It sucks having to limp around at school all day and it sucks having to lie and say he sprained his ankle. It's pretty believable though seeing as everyone knows Stiles to be the clumsy type. He's quite content because Finstock informed him that he's off the team for a few weeks until he recovers. It's not as if Stiles plays though - ninety nine percent of the time he sits on his ass warming the bench and if he's  ~~un~~ lucky enough, he has to go on the field and substitute for an injured or not present player. Stiles isn't a bad player when it comes to Lacrosse. He likes the feel of the wind against his face as he runs and he likes hearing the commotion when the ball hits the net. He just doesn't have the chance to prove himself worthy because the team seem to have an inbuilt issue with Stiles and never fail to trip him up during practice (apart from Scott because seriously, Scott's literally a puppy).  
  
At least he got the superglue. Stiles had sat on the toilet in the school and disinfected the cut with disinfectant wipes he always carries around, followed by applying the superglue. He's not exactly sure how the chemicals in the glue would react to the wound - after all, superglue was made to glue things like wood together, not  _skin._ Stiles has been taking care of his own wounds for almost three years and not once in his life has he used superglue. He tends to disinfect his cuts with the disinfectant wipes and then glue the skin together with skin glue. He ran out of skin glue last week and he has been meaning to buy some more from the pharmacy but he just doesn't have time. In fact, he's sure that his dad has some stashed away in his room for emergencies but Stiles respects his dads privacy. Well, he really doesn't but he doesn't want to stumble across a pocket pussy like he had last time. He wishes he could get that thought out of his mind but sadly the human brain doesn't allow humans to forget unwanted thoughts. He may have to snoop around somehow because he needs that glue and he's not willing to drive twenty minutes away to the other side of town to buy a stash of skin glue. The staff at the pharmacy must suspect something because every time Stiles goes there it's to buy disinfectant wipes and skin glue. He doesn't need word coming back to his dad that Stiles may be engaging in self harm.   
  
Stiles walks slowly to his jeep, trying to avoid further injury on his foot. He pats the hood of the jeep before opening the door and slowly lowers himself in, starting the car and cranking up the heating. Upon making sure that all doors are locked, he reverses out of the parking space and leaves the school grounds. He fiddles with the radio, settling on a decent station and he hums along to The Weeknd. Stiles loves The Weeknd. His voice is the epitome of an orgasm and Stiles has all his albums, all signed and dated. He's watched all his live shows and all his interviews. As much of a fan Stiles is, he has never been to a concert by The Weeknd. To be fair though, Stiles has never been to any concerts because  _he has no friends_ and besides, he's too busy to be driving three hours away to view someone singing live. He has a fuckload of work to do, he has to cook for himself and his dad, he cleans parts of the house almost daily because they're simply too broke to afford a cleaner, he has to do the grocery shopping and sometimes has to go back more than once. He also babysits for Laura Hale every Saturday and sometimes on Wednesdays.   
  
Stiles actually loves Laura's child. She's called Michaela and she's almost three years old. She has jet black curly hair, thick eyebrows, Cupid's bow lips, a straight upturned nose and cheekbones.  _Christ_ , she's two years old and she's got cheekbones and a jawline. Stiles definitely is not envious of a two year old.  _He's not._ The best part is, Stiles gets to talk to her in Bulgarian, despite her only speaking a little. She understands quite a lot, as Laura's ex spoke to her only in Bulgarian but she cannot pronounce certain words correctly and ends up very frustrated. Stiles loves being able to converse with her in his mother tongue, despite her being a toddler but it still makes him feel closer to his mum. He's a little rusty as he hasn't spoken it for quite some time - he only began babysitting for Laura three months ago and his mother died 11 years ago, making it almost 11 years of Stiles not speaking his mother tongue. What makes things even better is that no one can understand what Stiles says - Laura definitely doesn't and neither does his dad (his dad is half polish and half irish) and deep down, Stiles enjoys the attention he gets from others when he talks to Aleksandra. Surprisingly, Laura encourages Stiles speaking to her in another language as she wants her daughter to grow up speaking a language other than English, which Stiles finds a little odd because he wouldn't want his kid to grow up speaking the same language as his ex (the irony, Stiles doesn't even see himself in a relationship, let alone have exes) but Laura is happy with it and so is Stiles. He mainly talks to her in English though, occasionally incorporating non-English words into his sentences.   
  
Stiles cuts off his rambling thoughts as he pulls up into his driveway, momentarily forgetting his injuries as he steps out, causing him to hiss in pain. He locks the jeep and unlocks the front door.   
  
'Dad!' he yells and is greeted with silence. Stiles sighs. Throughout this month his dad has constantly promised Stiles that he'll be there by the time Stiles arrives home and every time Stiles returns to an empty house. He doesn't know why he's so disappointed - it's not even his dad's fault, with him being the Sheriff and all.   
Stiles just doesn't do well with empty houses. It reminds him of how lonely he really is. He doesn't have a mum to come home to like many people his age do, his dad never has time for him and his best friend rarely comes over anymore. Stiles draws in a deep breath to quell the sinking feeling in his heart. He's okay. People go through much worse.   
  
Maybe his dad not being home today is a good thing as it gives Stiles the opportunity to look for the much needed skin glue in his room. Stiles limps up the stairs which takes forever and enters his dads room. The bed has been messily made and Stiles huffs as he sees an empty beer bottle under the bed. He walks over towards his dad's chest of drawers and opens every single draw, finding nothing. He checks the cupboard in the corner of the room next and still finds nothing. He then checks his dads wardrobe and rifles through his belongings resting on the bottom, smiling triumphantly when his fingers close around a multipack of skin glue. The packaging is covered in dust, meaning his dad has most likely forgotten about it and won't notice that it's missing. Stiles makes sure everything is the way he left it before shutting the door to his dads room. He walks back to his own room and lowers himself onto his bed, setting the package down next to him. He opens up the packaging and takes out a small tube of glue, fiddling with it for a moment before stuffing it into his pocket.  
  
He sits there and no more than a minute passes before negative thoughts begin snaking into his head. He can't think about this - not right now and he stands up, looking for a distraction. He's not proud about the self harm he engages in and he's walking towards his wardrobe to where his blades lay hidden when he sees the bundle of grey clothes on the chair. Instantly, his mind flashes back to the wolf he saw the day before. The wolf. How the fuck could a wolf still exist in Beacon Hills and not be seen? He has a flashback of the wolf's growl, it's teeth, it's green eyes. He remembers how docile the wolf was, how it didn't harm Stiles, apart from the nips it gave to Stiles' arm - which reminds Stiles that it must have been a warning to stay away.  _But still._ Stiles wants to know what happened to Jackson and Matt, who he didn't hear from today. He wants to know who the clothes belong to and why the wolf felt the need to lead him there.   
  
_The wolf warned you to stay away!_ Stiles' mind screams but the wolf hadn't technically harmed him. It had seemed very tame and as far as Stiles is aware, wolves are not docile creatures but  _this one was._ Stiles wants to see it again. He's surprised that the thought of the wolf hadn't crossed his mind much throughout the day but he had been shitting himself trying to avoid Matt and Jackson who apparently didn't show. But now, Stiles wants to see the wolf.   
  
Before he even has a chance to tell himself that he's about to do something utterly stupid, Stiles' legs seem to be making their way down the stairs.  
  
***  
  
Throughout the entire drive to the preserve, Stiles' heart thrums with excitement and fear. He hasn't felt excited for such a long time and for once, for once the fear he feels is not from trying to avoid his tormentors at school. He knows what he's doing is stupid. He made a decision so quickly, barely gave it any thought and now here he is, driving down the road  _on the verge of doing something so stupid._ Just because the wolf didn't attack doesn't mean it won't this time. He barely registers the music playing on the radio as he parks his car on a side street minutes away from the preserve. There's a strict rule that no one is permitted to enter the preserve after dark and if Stiles' dad is in the area and sees his jeep, he'll know of his son's whereabouts. Being the Sheriff's son has its advantages and disadvantages. He steps out of the vehicle and scans the area around him before trudging along the road. He's dimly aware that his foot is aching but he's too pumped up with nerves to care. Minutes later, he finds himself right at the entrance of the preserve and his brain screams at him to turn back but Stiles is too curious for his own good. He takes the first step, then the second and then the third.  
  
Stiles follows the path he usually takes when he comes to run. He has to pause quite often as his foot constantly throbs, reminding him that he should have removed the superglue before making any decisions. He glances at his watch and notes that the sun will be setting in under thirty minutes - if he's caught here after dark, he'll get in major trouble and the thought prompts him to walk faster. He shifts his weight onto his uninjured foot as he walks deeper into the preserve. A few minutes pass and Stiles pauses as pain flares up his leg. He waits for the pain to subside as he takes a look at his surroundings. To his left, he sees the sturdy growth of trees and he knows that he's on the right track. He squints as he looks into the distance and sees the red fabric of yesterday's shirt flapping around in the breeze. He turns right when he approaches the branch his shirt had been skewered on and shuffles along the wide expanse of ground. There's trees surrounding him in the distance and Stiles groans as he sees a slope in the ground, reminding him of how he tripped the day before.  
  
The slope lays a few metres ahead of him and Stiles wonders how he'll make his way down there with his injury. The forest is getting dark now. The sun should be setting within the next fifteen minutes and if Stiles doesn't make his way down while the sun is in the sky he won't be able to in the dark. He decides on holding his arms out for balance before rapidly running down the slope, crying out in pain when the sole of his shoe rubs against his foot. He almost falls but luckily he manages to anchor his uninjured foot into the ground, his hands waving around in the air before they land in front of him. His injured foot slides a little until he's almost doing the splits.   
  
'What are you doing here?' A harsh voice comes from above and Stiles looks up, mouth dropping open as he's presented with an extremely sexy leather clad Derek Hale. Immediately, he feels his face heating up because he's in the most awkward position with his skinny ass stuck in the air whilst his crush judges him from above.   
  
'Stiles!' Derek snaps and oh,  _of course he's unhappy._ Stiles sees Derek every week when he goes over to the Hale house to look after Michaela. According to Laura, the last time Derek looked after Aleksandra he almost set the kitchen on fire whilst trying to make breakfast for her and since then she hasn't trusted Michaela in Derek's care. Every single time Stiles sees Derek he's always sending him the dirtiest looks, glaring at him and muttering words under his breath. He's never directly addressed Stiles before, so that's something new.   
  
'Just on a walk', Stiles mumbles, focusing on Derek's shoes to hide the embarrassment which is clearly evident judging by the way his face is still burning. He manages to close his legs and bring his feet together, standing up and keeping his gaze low. It doesn't help that every time Stiles looks at Derek his heart flutters in his chest and it sucks that Derek thinks so little of Stiles. The thing is, Stiles knows that his face isn't exactly appealing to look at and he knows that his presence annoys quite a few people and Derek treating him like shit doesn't really help with his confidence.   
  
Because Stiles knows Derek is hot and so does Derek, fuck, everyone knows Derek is hot and it hurts Stiles that Derek can't even stand to look at him.   
  
'This is private property. Get out.' Cold. Abrupt.   
  
'It wouldn't kill you to be polite sometimes' Stiles snaps, instantly regretting his words as Derek's scowl deepens, something which Stiles thought was impossible.   
  
'Get off my property and don't come back or I will tell your father. I'm pretty sure the Sheriff would love to hear about how his son sneaks off into the preserve after dark and  _trespasses_ on private property. Leave. Now' Derek sneers before turning around, easily walking up the slope and away. Stiles stands still for a minute. His face is still burning and he doesn't know if it's out of anger or humiliation. Derek doesn't have the right to talk to him like that. He treats Stiles like he's not even human and Stiles angrily wipes away the tears that threaten to fall. He contemplates on leaving and decides not to.   
  
'Fuck it' he mutters under his breath. Derek can't tell Stiles what to do. Stiles freezes for a moment as he has a thought - if this land is owned by the Hales, it's possible that they have seen the wolf. What if they're the owners? Maybe that's why the wolf acted so tame? Then again, the preserve is large meaning the wolf has plenty of space to roam and hide. Stiles feels disappointment well up inside of him as the wolf could be miles away now. He scans his surroundings, making sure Derek isn't hiding in the bushes before he decides to move forward, shuddering when he passes the spot where Matt had mutilated his foot. As if on cue, Stiles' foot begins to hurt and he pauses, waiting for the pain to subside. Instead of subsiding, the pain only intensifies and he whimpers as his whole foot begins to throb. The sun has officially set and the forest has become dark. Stiles has no choice but to sit down and somehow find a way to dull the pain he's feeling.   
  
He removes his backpack and carefully sits down, grinding his teeth as he removes his shoe. It's dark but Stiles can tell that there is no bleeding, which is a good thing. He slowly peels his sock off his foot and halfway down, he's met with resistance. He tugs slightly harder and cries out when he feels a new kind of pain and warmth begins to trickle down his foot. The sock is stuck to the glue on his wound. God, Stiles is so fucking careless. He should have waited a few seconds after applying the glue instead of putting on his sock straight away. There's no way that he can remove the sock without it causing further damage and if he tries rolling it back up chances are that his sock will absorb all the blood it can before his shoes do. These are his only good pair of shoes and he can't risk staining them.  
  
Stiles holds his breath and counts to three.  _One, two, three_. He huffs in anger.  _Again. One. Two. Three._  
'Fuck' he curses. 'One... Two... Three!' He wails as he pulls off his sock, instantly placing his hands over the wound. He can't say whether receiving the cuts was more painful than this or whether this is. He gasps, trying to get his breathing under control as he attempts to staunch the blood flow with his sock.  
   
A sudden familiar growl comes from the bushes in front of him. Stiles stills. Of course the wolf would find him - they have a keen sense of smell and wolves are attracted to blood. A silhouette moves from behind the bushes and edges closer. Stiles shouldn't be scared - the wolf helped him out yesterday, surely it'll help him out again? So why are his instincts screaming at him to get up and run? Maybe its because of the growling that gets louder as the wolf stalks closer.  _Why the fuck is it stalking towards me?_   Stiles thinks. He's bleeding out here, he'd appreciate it if the wolf came faster.   
  
Stiles realises he's in danger when he sees the wolf's eyes. The wolf he was with yesterday had light green eyes. This wolf has yellow eyes. Even in the dark, Stiles can tell the difference between this wolf's colour and the wolf from yesterday. This wolf is grey. The wolf from yesterday was black.   
__  
Shit.  
  
Stiles reaches for his backpack but the wolf  _snarls_ and comes closer. He remembers the glue he stuffed in his pocket so he jams his hand into it, pulling out the small tube of glue. If he dies, at least he'll die defending himself.  _With a 5 ml tube of glue_ , his mind supplies. He quickly uncaps the tube, ready to squirt it into the wolf's eyes which seem to flash gold but then a dark mass comes hurtling out of nowhere and crashes into his attacker, growling and snapping its teeth.   
  
_Great. Two wolves are fighting over who gets to eat me._  
  
Before Stiles can even edge away, the grey wolf yelps and runs off and Stiles is suddenly face to face with a black wolf -  _the black wolf_ which snarls at him and growls, snapping its teeth. Its growls turn into a whimper as it sees the state of Stiles' foot. Before Stiles can even register what is happening, he feels something wet and equally rough but soft slide up his foot.  __  
  
_The wolf is fucking licking his foot._  
  
'O-oh god' he breathes out. 'I told you yesterday, I... I don't taste good, you don't want to feed me to your pups - oh god please don't eat me alive - I... I have to c-cook for my dad and he can't live without me, well he can but - and...' Stiles trails off as he realises that the wolf is not interested in eating his body parts.  
  
The wolf makes a snorting sound as it resumes licking his injury.   
'What are- OW!' Stiles yelps as the wolf nips at his toe. 'Why- OWW!' Stiles shuts up as the wolf licks his foot. Ah. It was trying to shut him up. It worked for a while but Stiles being Stiles can't help but talk.  
  
'Oh my god you're eating superglue from my foot - isn't that shit dangerous to animals - OW stop biting me!' Stiles shrieks, causing the wolf to step back and growl, raising its hackles.    
  
'Sorry' he murmurs. The wolf studies him for a moment, lowering its head as it licks at his foot.   
  
'Please don't bite me but I have to talk, like I cannot talk, it's physically impossible for me to shut up' Stiles says, watching the wolf warily as it give his wound a light lick. He sees that as an invitation to continue, so he does.   
  
'Like for example my best friend Scott, he's like the only person who likes hearing me talk, well, not anymore because we don't talk often because he's infatuated with this girl called Allison but whatever, and oh! There's this girl I babysit, she's almost three but she talks so much like I do, like half the time she just babbles and says random words but its so endearing and she's so cute, like for real she's only two and she has a jawline and cheekbones, she's gonna be such a beautiful person when she grows up, I always remind her and she has like these thick eyebrows, its like a hale trait I think because her mum has them eyebrows too but obviously she gets them threaded, but to be honest Derek has the thickest eyebrows I've ever seen and he does this weird snorting thing all the time - exactly like you just did! Do it again? No? That's okay but yeah, Derek, man he's too rude though - ow stop biting me - and yeah he's just not a nice person - ow, stop! - and yeah he treats me like shit to be honest and it sort of does hurt me cause I know I'm ugly and annoying but the way he looks at me is just, not cool man, like he knows he's hot and he doesn't want to look at me because well, I'm me and yeah I'm not saying he's arrogant or anything but I don't know... he made me cry today, can you believe that? Yeah exactly, he threatened me and spoke to me so harshly like I'm not human - no offence - and I didn't mean to cry but it just hurt, you know like people who know me don't exactly like me and he doesn't exactly know me -' Stiles stops his rambling when he registers that the wolf has stopped licking his wound.   
  
It studies Stiles with a long look and then noses at his foot.   
'Are you done?' Stiles asks and the wolf nudges his foot again.  
  
He crosses his leg so that his injured foot rests on his thigh and he picks up the glue he left on the floor, pinching his skin together and then applying the glue to the wound, ensuring that it has been sealed shut. He's going to wait a few minutes for it to dry, having learnt his lesson and he raises his head to look back at the wolf. He's slightly embarrassed that he's been talking non stop to a creature that doesn't even understand but...  
  
'You're so real' he says. 'Like when I talk, I don't know it's weird but it's like you're listening, obviously you're not but I don't really have anyone to talk to and today's just been so shit and with what happened with Derek-' the wolf whines and Stiles stops talking. He lowers his foot to the ground because the glue has evidently dried up now and he rolls on his sock with minimal pain. When he looks up, the wolf's face is so close to his that if he moves his head a few centimetres forward they'll end up bumping their noses. Stiles hesitantly raises a hand, silently asking permission if he can touch. The wolf headbutts his hand and nuzzles into it, allowing Stiles to gently scratch at his ears.   
  
Stiles gasps as his hand comes in contact with the wolf's fur. It's so soft, so so soft like a soft furry blanket and Stiles suddenly feels the urge to throw his arms around the wolf's neck so that he can feel more of the softness. He has to refrain himself from doing so as it would probably aggravate the wolf. The wolf looks up at Stiles, causing his hand to slide down its head and cradle its neck. Stiles gently squeezes its neck and the wolf whines.  
  
'You're so beautiful. Your fur... your eyes... everything', he tells it. Its hazel eyes come in contact with Stiles' dull brown irises and Stiles stares into the flecks of brown, gold and hazel. Oddly enough, it reminds Stiles of Derek and he drops his hand, eliciting a whine from the wolf as it nudges his arm, evidently wanting to be touched. He suddenly feels resentful towards the wolf. The wolf that he just spoke to, the wolf that doesn't fucking understand what it's like to want to die, the wolf that doesn't know what being bullied feels like, the wolf that doesn't have to give a shit about appearance because it's already beautiful and its a fucking animal and  _it just doesn't fucking understand._  
  
Stiles grabs his shoe and slides his foot into it, not caring about the sudden flare of pain. Halfway through tying his shoelaces, he begins to feel tears fall and he wipes them away only for more to glide down his face. The wolf whines louder and nudges Stiles but Stiles needs to leave. He made a mistake coming here. He should have listened to Derek, fuck, he shouldn't have even made the journey here in the first place. He stands up on his third attempt, avoiding the wolf's gaze.   
  
'I need to leave' he says, turning around and pulling out his phone. He swipes upwards, clicking on the flashlight icon and he begins to walk away. The wolf whines and Stiles hears the soft padding of paws behind him.   
  
'I know my way' he says. The wolf still follows him and Stiles whirls around.  
  
'I fucking know my way!' he snaps, hating the way his voice quivers on the last word. He hates the way the wolf sits back on his hind legs, hates the way it whines, hates the way the tears threaten to fall once more. All he fucking does is cry.   
  
'It's fucking pathetic', he says, voicing his thoughts. 'I have no friends or family to support me and here I am, talking to a fucking animal like a madman' he laughs hysterically, turning around as he scrambles up the slope, barely registering the pain. He walks for what feels like forever and he's aware of the wolf trailing behind him but he doesn't say anything, just listens to his hysterical laughter become sobs as he makes his way out of the preserve.   
  
He doesn't even look back as he exits. He walks on and on until he reaches his jeep and he forgoes patting the hood like he usually does. He starts up the vehicle and drives away.  
  
He feels numb, even as he parks his car in the driveway and walks into his house, greeted by the sight of his father passed out on the rocking chair. He ascends the stairs, feeling heavier and heavier and when he reaches his room, he automatically reaches for the box in his wardrobe. He carries it over to his bed, grabs the towel dangling off the edge and sits down. He shrugs off all his clothing and opens the box. The metal is cool in his hand and he sighs as he drags the blade over the skin on his thigh, repeating the motion until he finally feels something. He glances down at the blood dripping down his thigh and dabs at the cuts with the towel before tightly wrapping it around his thigh, securing it with a knot. He's too tired to shower, too tired to do anything at the moment and he places the blade back into the box before sliding it under the bed.   
  
Stiles falls asleep moments later and dreams of himself lost in the forest with no wolf to guide him.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so irritated because I finished this chapter only for the laptop to crash right before i uploaded it, so I had to rewrite it  
> So I used to have a friend who actually soaked money in water because he thought it wouldn't rip but obviously it did :D  
> Also if anyone does self harm, please don't ever use superglue (i'm not sure if americans say superglue but when i mention it i'm talking about that really really strong glue) cause it can irritate the skin and the wound, if the cut is too deep please go get stitches  
> I'm talking from experience, using skin glue is irritating cause you can't shower for a looong time after applying it and in my opinion it was quite hard to apply it on myself  
> Let me know if y'all enjoyed this chapter and finally i hope everyone had a lovely christmas


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments on my last chapter, reading your comments motivates me to write more(:
> 
> This is just a filler chapter, nothing much happens apart from Stiles developing his relationship with the wolf and others but anyway, I hope you all enjoy :D
> 
> This is the song Stiles listens to in this chapter:  
> Halsey - Strangers ft Lauren Jauregui - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3hjpNuvapQ
> 
> It's really irritating cause I don't know how to html links on notes, like I don't know how to simply type in a url in the notes which allows the reader to simply click on it without having to copy and paste.
> 
> Also I wrote a Sterek oneshot, check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238619

Stiles doesn't go back to the preserve for the next few days. As soon as the day ends, he hops into his jeep and makes his way home whilst failing to prevent himself from thinking about the wolf. An hour does not go by where he doesn't think of the wolf and he finds himself more distracted than usual. He's lucky that his teachers are lenient with him as he can get away with the excuse of having ADHD but it's only a matter of time before they'll begin to raise their expectations of him again.   
  
Harris is a dick though, no matter how hard Stiles tells him that he can't concentrate because of his condition. He keeps him behind after school to catch up on notes that he hasn't copied down and Stiles feels uncomfortable under his scrutiny. His dad hasn't noticed a difference in his behaviour, which Stiles is quite thankful for but neither have any of his friends.   
  
_Some friends they are_ Stiles thinks as he jots down a particularly long formula. Scott's been even more smitten with Allison for the past few days and Lydia - well Lydia isn't exactly his friend. He's more or less over her; he realised at some point last year that she'll never return his feelings.  
  
He still catches himself drifting off to thoughts of her but recently his mind has been occupied with a certain Hale and a certain wolf. Besides, when he gives it some thought he wouldn't want to be with someone as stuck up as Lydia anyway. There's a reason her and Jackson are a perfect match.  
  
Stiles finishes jotting down the last formula and pushes back his chair, wincing at the screech it makes as it rubs against the ground. Harris looks up and glares as he sees Stiles approaching him with his rather large notebook in his hand. Stiles presents his notes to Harris and flushes under his hard gaze before Harris gestures to the door, muttering under his breath. Stiles rolls his eyes, slinging his bag over his almost healed shoulder and he strolls out of the classroom and into the corridor.   
  
He can walk without limping now - he still feels pain in his foot when he treads on the ground with too much pressure but overall he's good. The past few days have been considerably warmer than the week before but after all, it is March and whilst the trees don't really shed their leaves and plants don't die during Beacon Hills' winter, the sudden growth of vegetation is noticeable.   
  
As Stiles reverses out of the car park, he notices the vibrant colour of the grass and the roses blooming on bushes on the sides of the road. It makes him feel a little content. He's always been a nature person and before the death of his mum the pair would spend a few hours on every other day after school sitting on the fields on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, eating ice cream and occasionally trying to tan.   
  
Stiles was too pale though. He burnt easily under the sun and his mum would rub sunscreen all over his body to avoid him getting sunburn. Applying sunscreen has become one of Stiles' daily rituals during the summer because he doesn't want to ever experience sunburn again. He shudders at the thought. The one time that he had burnt his chest and back, he had shed dead skin almost every night in his bed for almost two weeks.   
  
He clears his mind of the thought and continues driving until he reaches the entrance of the preserve. He wants to go in, not to see the wolf (well, maybe a little) but because today has been pleasantly warm and he can spot a few dandelions in the distance, swaying slightly in the breeze as if beckoning Stiles to come over.   
  
_Fuck it_  Stiles decides. He's not going to let some stupid wolf ruin his chance at happiness. He'll stay close to the entrance, away from the eyes of onlookers but also far from where the wolf seems to usually lurk. He's pretty sure that the wolf won't try to seek him out as he'll be sitting too close to the entrance but then again the wolf did wait at the entrance as Stiles drove off during his last visit.   
  
But it had been dark, so anyone who reported a sighting of a wolf near the entrance of the preserve probably wouldn't be taken seriously. It's still light and it's well over an hour before sunset, so Stiles heads into the preserve. He locks his jeep and plops down onto the ground, gazing at the vast array of flowers which he hadn't seen from a distance.   
  
Spring had come a little early but it is warm and there are flowers, so Stiles has no issue with it. He pulls out his phone and opens up his music app. He flicks through the contents and decides to shuffle play Halsey's songs. The beat begins to play after a few moments and Stiles leans back into the soft vegetation, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath.   
  
He feels good, surprisingly. The sun beats down on his face and he feels like he's sinking further into the softness which is cushioning him perfectly. He feels himself on the verge of drifting off so he lazily sets his alarm to wake him up in the next half an hour before flopping back onto the ground and drifting off.  
  
***  
  
His alarm startles him out of his dream about refrigerators that talk and he reaches for his phone with bleary eyes. He turns off the alarm and sneezes once, then twice. He inwardly curses for being so reckless that he didn't bring his allergy pills but then again, he hadn't been aware that he'd stop by the preserve and take a short nap. He sneezes once more and groans, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out a tissue, blowing his nose roughly.  
  
He fumbles around for his phone, checking the time and noting that the sun will be setting within the next half hour. He's just about to stand up when a series of familiar growls come from behind him. Stiles pauses for a moment, contemplating whether he should just ignore it and leave or turn around.  
  
He decides on the latter and faces the wolf. It's standing a few metres away from Stiles with its mouth pulled up in a snarl.  
  
'Jheeze, big bad wolf' Stiles mutters, raising his hands in a placating gesture. 'You're the one who stumbled across me today.'   
  
The sun is low in the sky, not quite setting yet and the light catches the left side of the wolf's face, its vivid green eyes almost shining. It's beautiful. Stiles lowers his gaze. He turns around, ignoring the wolf as the last visit's events play through his mind. The wolf snarls and is in front of Stiles in a matter of seconds, preventing him from leaving the preserve.   
  
Stiles takes a step to the right, attempting to walk past the wolf but the wolf takes a step to its left, blocking Stiles from exiting. It growls once more and then lets out an eerie noise somewhat similar to a bark which has Stiles stepping back in fear. He remembers watching a film where the wolf had barked at an injured main character before it and its pack tore him to shreds. Stiles is pretty sure this wolf can tear him apart despite being alone.   
  
He raises his hands in a placating manner once more, spewing out apologies. 'I- I really just wanna leave and get home-' the wolf growls again and its right ear twitches.  
  
Stiles hesitantly moves to his right but once again, the wolf steps to its left and blocks Stiles' exit. It's extremely clever and surprisingly human in its nature, apart from the growling and the previous licking but Stiles sees the way it studies him and moves in tandem with his own steps.   
  
Like it's playing a game. 'I don't know what you want' Stiles manages to say, mentally cheering as he prevents his voice from quivering.  
  
It's not as if the wolf can understand though despite it cocking its head as if in thought. Stiles begins to talk, maintaining eye contact with the wolf as he slowly begins moving to the right. The wolf maintains eye contact with Stiles yet still moves to the left with every step Stiles takes.   
  
'Honestly' Stiles begins, attempting to ignore the fact that the wolf is moving with every step Stiles takes. Maybe he'll distract the wolf and make it to his jeep. It's ten metres away at most and maybe he can make it without the wolf tearing into him.  _Or_ _not,_ he thinks as he recalls the way the wolf had jumped in front of Stiles as he had turned around just a few minutes ago.   
  
'For the first time in weeks today's gone quite well and - well to be frank, you not letting me leave is rapidly turning my day to shit' Stiles glares and then smooths out his features as the wolf may see him as a challenge. 'And here I am, talking to you as if you're a person' he continues, flushing in embarrassment as he imagines how strange it must look. Him talking to a wolf.   
  
'But' he carries on, taking a step to the right. The wolf follows. 'I don't know how to talk in the wolfie language. And I appreciate you cleaning my wound last time and I'd appreciate it if you... just let me leave. How does that sound?'  
  
He breaks into a run and he curses as a heavy weight lands on his back, pushing him into the earth. Claws nip at his back and Stiles hisses in pain.   
  
'D-don't eat me please, I don't want to die! Stiles shrieks as the wolf noses at the back of his neck. 'I mean, I-I do but not - not like this oh god I taste horrible don't eat me now' Stiles stumbles over his words, quivering in fear. 'You probably don't understand me but if it's any consolation I'm s-sorry for challenging y-you last time a-' the heavy weight is off him in an instant and Stiles rolls over, gasping.   
  
He shoots up into a sitting position, actually fearful for his life which is quite surprising. He jolts upon viewing the wolf sitting near his feet. It stares at him for a moment before it drops his head and nuzzles at his shin. Stiles blinks and then throws his hands up in the air.   
  
'Really?' he asks. 'An apology? Is that what you wanted?'  
  
The wolf raises its head up and studies Stiles for a long moment before resuming its process of nuzzling Stiles' shin. 'Wait', Stiles says, suddenly scooting back and standing up. 'You understand me.'  
  
The wolf snarls at him and steps forward. 'You stopped trying to eat me or whatever because I apologised for challenging you. For shouting at you last time. What... what are you?' Stiles is suddenly struck with a thought and excitement replaces his fear. 'Dude! This is awesome! Are you some sort of a mutant or something?'   
  
The wolf stops snarling and sits on its hind legs. 'Nod once for yes, twice for no' Stiles says and the wolf stares at him blankly. 'Are you a mutant?' he repeats and the wolf's expression remains blank. 'Do you understand me? You do right? Nod once for yes' Stiles demands, all hope dying away. The wolf just lowers its head and licks at its paw.   
  
'Oh god' Stiles mutters to himself, feeling his cheeks burn up. 'I am crazy. I just tried making a wolf talk to me. This stays between us, you hear?' he points at the wolf, whose eyes zone onto Stiles' finger and Stiles pulls it back in fear of it getting eaten.   
  
He looks up at the sky and notes that the sun has set and he curses. He needed to get home by sundown - he needs to cook for his dad. He looks back down at the wolf and suddenly feels very awkward. Should he say bye? Or should he just leave?   
  
He turns to leave moments later and the wolf growls at him, causing him to turn back. 'I - what's the point of even talking to you, you don't understand. For god's sake, you're an animal' he laughs lightly. 'But you seem so real. Like whatever I say isn't left unheard. Maybe you can pick up on my emotions or something, I don't know how this wolfie business works' he continues. 'I really need to go though, I had to be home by sundown. I have to cook for my dad.'  
  
The wolf cocks its head to the side before leaping up to Stiles unexpectedly, standing on its hind legs with its paws on Stiles' shoulders.  
  
'O-oh my god' Stiles breathes fearfully but then the wolf licks the underside of his jaw, nuzzling at his neck and then darts away further into the preserve, leaving Stiles all alone with his chin dripping of wolf spit.  
  
Stiles grimaces as he wipes the drool away with his sleeve, planning to wash the hoodie tonight and he walks towards the jeep, throwing glances backwards half expecting the wolf to jump out of the shadows.   
  
He really thinks he's going crazy.   
  
***  
  
The following two days pass in a similar manner, except this time Stiles meets with the wolf at their usual spot further into the preserve. He's gained a few more bruises on his ribs from Matt, who had left him alone for the past week. It seems like he's getting back into his usual process of harming Stiles and ever since the foot cutting episode, Stiles isn't sure whether he should report Matt to the police. After all, his dad is the sheriff.   
  
But Stiles doesn't want to add extra weight on his dad's shoulders. His dad's not been at home much recently due to a new case Stiles isn't exactly aware of and the few times Stiles sees him, he can't help but register the dark circles under his eyes and the stoop of his shoulders.   
  
He makes a habit of leaving food in the fridge for his dad to warm up when he does come home as Stiles is usually asleep by then. Stiles snaps out of his thoughts as he feels a puff of warm air against his arm and he raises his hand, gently stroking the wolf's head. It's a bit crazy, Stiles thinks, how he's so calm around the wolf. It growls at him occasionally when he talks non stop for a long time but apart from that it doesn't exactly act threatening towards him.   
  
At the end of the day, Stiles should be at least a little bit wary as the animal is technically wild but it hasn't really done anything harmful to Stiles, so it's a risk he's willing to take. Plus, he gets a weird sort of satisfaction from the fact that the wolf seems to enjoy his company. Not many people seem to enjoy Stiles' company, so he takes what he can get.   
  
The wolf knocks Stiles' hand away from its head as it rolls over onto its back, snapping lazily at the air. Stiles looks down and oh - the wolf's dick is on display and that's not exactly something Stiles wants to see. That reminds him - he needs to assign a name to the wolf. Referring to the wolf as 'the wolf' isn't really original and it needs a male pronoun instead of 'it'.   
  
'So' Stiles says. 'Wolfie'  
  
The wolf growls. Stiles likes to pretend that the wolf understands, so he plays along. 'Okay, you don't like that. How about... just Wolf?'  
  
Another growl.   
  
'Grumpy wolf?' the wolf rolls over and snaps at his fingers.   
  
'Dude' Stiles sighs. 'Whenever I'm on the verge of coming to terms with the fact that you can't possibly understand me you prove me wrong.' The wolf stares at him blankly and then lets out an almost inaudible whine. It quickly schools its features into a snarl and then places its muzzle between its paws, closing its eyes.   
  
'You remind me of Derek' Stiles suddenly blurts out, snapping the wolf out of whatever dreamland it is in. The wolf recoils and growls, narrowing its eyes at Stiles.  
  
Stiles flails his arms as he moves to uncross his legs. 'Jesus' he says. 'Totally like Derek. The wolf version of Derek' Stiles mutters to himself, ignoring the low growl coming from the wolf's throat.   
  
'I'd like to refer to you as Derek but that'd clash. Plus you're way more nice to me than the actual Derek and I don't want my thoughts of you to be ruined by him so... Wolf. But you don't like that and you don't like Grumpy wolf. Whiny Wolf? Nah, that sounds annoying.' Stiles pauses and thinks hard. 'Oh my god' he chuckles. 'I've got it -  _Sourwolf.'_  
  
Sourwolf releases a little snarl but otherwise stays still so Stiles sees that as an achievement. Speaking of Derek, Stiles has to babysit Michaela tomorrow.   
  
He's hoping that Derek will be out but that seems highly unlikely as Derek fits the definition of a recluse perfectly. Sometimes Stiles wonders if Derek only has an issue with him or if he's like that with everyone. He remembers before the Hale fire when Derek had friends, when him and his jock friends would gallivant around town and frighten old women and cats.   
  
The new Derek is different though. Stiles has heard on multiple occasions that he climbs trees to rescue cats which have gotten stuck  _and_ he helps old ladies cross the street. Which Stiles supposes answers his question. If Derek is patient enough to let old women hold onto his huge arms for longer than necessary, it's clear to see that Derek simply has something against Stiles.   
  
He hisses in pain as he accidentally knocks his elbow into his bruised ribs, wincing at the sharp pain which seemingly takes forever to subside. Sourwolf whines and edges closer to Stiles until he's rucking up Stiles' shirt, growling as he spots the reddish bruises littering Stiles' ribs.   
  
'Yeah, Matt punched me a few times today. He's the one who - who cut my foot before' Stiles says, pointing at his foot in hopes of making Sourwolf understand. Either he does or it's just a coincidence but the responding snarl sends shivers down Stiles' spine.  
  
He's almost certain that Sourwolf is prepared to bite him but the canine gently licks at Stiles' ribs, causing him to giggle. 'It tickles' he laughs and Sourwolf stares at him blankly (this is becoming quite common, the licking and the blank expressions, Stiles notes) before full on lapping at his ribs until Stiles pushes his face away with laughter.   
  
He feels way more lighter and his ribs don't hurt as much when he finally leaves.  
  
***  
  
When Stiles rings the bell to the Hale house the following day, the door swings open and he's met with a teenage girl he distantly recognises but isn't exactly familiar with.   
  
'Uh... hi?' he offers awkwardly, relaxing when Laura pops up from behind her.   
  
'Cora, stop making Stiles uncomfortable' Laura scolds, pushing the girl back and tugging Stiles in by his arm.  _Cora Hale_ , Stiles thinks. He knew she'd survived the fire but as far as he knew, she had disappeared to god knows where. But she's back now and she studies Stiles with a raised eyebrow and then her eyes widen as if she recognises him but she quickly schools her features into a stoic expression.   
  
'Stiles? Who are you?' she asks and Laura tuts.  
  
'The babysitter Cora. The one I've been telling you about for the past few months'  
  
'Oh, you're the babysitter?' she says, clearly not approving as she turns her nose up, mouth downcast.   
  
'Ignore her Stiles' Laura says sweetly, glaring at Cora. 'Michaela's in the living room - she's been throwing tantrums all day so if she begins to get on your nerves, I give you permission to put her in timeout.'  
  
Stiles frowns. He doesn't necessarily like the idea of timeout. He believes that kids throw tantrums for a reason and finding out the reason and working around it makes things better. He doesn't voice this opinion though and instead maneuvers around Cora's form, taking off his shoes and walking into the living room to where Michaela sits in the corner, back facing Stiles.   
  
'Is she in time out now?' he calls to Laura, who's putting on her shoes and making a racket in the hallway.   
  
'Yeah' Laura calls back. 'She's been there for fifteen minutes, give her five more minutes and then you can talk to her.'  
  
Stiles frowns again and calls back to Laura, 'What did she do?'  
  
Laura clumps into the living room, standing in the doorway. 'She threw her juice all over Derek and refused to apologise. Like I said, give her five more minutes and then she can play. Cora, if we don't leave now we're definitely gonna be late. Hurry up and get your shoes on.' Laura smiles once at Stiles, telling him that she'll pay him once she gets back which will be around 8PM and then she's off with the slam of the front door.   
  
Stiles can distantly hear the sound of running water so he assumes Derek's in the shower. He slowly approaches Michaela and sits down next to her, facing the wall. ' _Milichka,_ what's wrong?'  
  
Michaela stays quite for a minute and then looks up at Stiles, tears pooling in her big eyes. Stiles absolutely hates it when people cry, especially when they're children. He gathers her up in his arms and hugs her.  
  
'You'll never be in timeout on my watch' he promises her and ignores the pain in his ribs as the girl shuffles against him. She lets out a huff against his neck.   
  
'What' happened?' Stiles asks her and startles when a gruff voice appears from behind him.   
  
'What are you doing?'   
  
Stiles turns around to see a glaring Derek (what's new) and Derek opens his mouth to speak. 'She's supposed to be in time out' he grits out. Stiles ignores him and looks back down at the little figure in his arms.   
  
'What's wrong?' he asks her again and she clambers out of his hold, standing up and looking at him.  
  
'Derek. My toy!' she shouts, waving her arms in the air out of frustration.   
  
'Hm?' Stiles says, not quite understanding the issue.   
  
'I took away your toy because you kept making noise with it!' Derek snarls, causing tears to well up in her eyes once more. Stiles refrains himself from telling Derek to shut the fuck up and he gently grasps Michaela's arm.   
  
' _It's okay_ ' he purposefully tells her in Bulgarian so Derek doesn't understand. ' _He's a bad, bad man_.' Stiles uses basic words he knows she will understand and her frown becomes a giggle. He lifts her up, ignoring the taut line of Derek's shoulders and his angry face, carrying her to the kitchen and allowing her to sit on the counter. 'Are you hungry?' he asks her and she nods.   
  
Derek steps into the kitchen and continues glowering at Stiles. Stiles does his best to ignore him as he walks over to the fridge, pulling out butter and cheese. He puts the ingredients down on the counter next to Michaela, trusting her not to touch them and he removes a pan from the drawer. He almost trips as he turns on the stove and blushes awkwardly, pulling down his shirt which had gone up, exposing his pudgy stomach.   
  
When he turns around, Derek's gone and Stiles feels much more at ease as he makes a quick meal of grilled cheese sandwiches, slicing the bread and placing it on a plate for Michaela. He picks her up and makes her sit on a chair and lets her eat. Once she's finished, she seems to be in a much better mood and she babbles, throwing in an odd mix of English, Bulgarian and made up words whilst Stiles washes up and puts the ingredients away.   
  
Once he's finished, he turns around and asks Michaela what she wants to do.   
  
'Frozen!' she yells gleefully, sliding off the chair and running into the living room. Stiles laughs and follows her, making a beeline for the left side of the couch just before Michaela gets there. The left side of the couch belongs to  _him_ and Stiles will fight anyone if they steal his spot, which includes toddlers. Michaela  _knows_ as she's had her fair share of tickle fights from Stiles. He's proud to say that he's won all four.   
  
'You've watched Frozen like a hundred times already' Stiles groans but internally he's quite content. He'll never admit it to anyone but Frozen is one of his favourite movies. No one needs to know about how he knows the lyrics to all ten songs, nope. He reaches for the remote and opens the list of downloaded movies, fighting back a smile as the opening scene of the film begins to play. Michaela's eyes grow wide and she babbles along to the song, gently nodding her head and Stiles smiles.   
  
She shuffles closer as the movie continues playing and she attempts to get Stiles to sing along with her. The pair begin to belt out the lyrics to 'Let It Go' and Stiles stops abruptly when someone clears their throat. He jumps, blushing furiously as Derek regards him with with an undecipherable look. Derek seems to notice that he's staring because he snaps his gaze away to the screen and then back to Stiles.   
  
'I...' he begins and then cuts himself off. He steps forward with awkward haste and stuffs a small green tub in front of Stiles' face, blocking the view of the television. Michaela grumbles and situates herself at the right end of the couch, resuming her singing.   
  
'Um...' Stiles says, staring at the green tub and then Derek drops it in his lap.   
  
'For you' Derek manages to say. His jaw is clenched so tight to the point that he must be in pain. Derek's facial expression makes it quite obvious that he doesn't want to talk to Stiles. Stiles glances down at the tub in his lap and then picks it up.   
  
' **Piper's Magic Ointment'** the label reads. ' **Our unique blend of herbs contribute to a quick and effective way of healing. Apply a sufficient amount to cover any cuts, grazes and bruises and watch the magic ointment do its wonders! Healing rates differ depending on the injury. Do not use on skin conditions such as Eczema or Psoriasis. For external use only.**  
  
'How-'  
  
'I...' Derek interrupts and clears his throat, eyes coming into contact with Stiles' before they dart away again. 'Your shirt went up and I saw the bruises. On your ribs' he stiffly says.   
  
'My bruises?' Stiles asks. Oh. His bruises. But... 'Why - I mean how? My shirt went up only a little, you can't have possibly seen the bruises on my ribs.'  
  
'It went up higher' Derek says defensively.   
  
'I'm the one who fell, I should know' Stiles quips back, realising moments later that he's being quite rude. He should be grateful.   
  
'I'm the one who saw so I should know' Derek growls and this is the Derek Stiles is used to. The mean, aggressive and unsympathetic Derek. Not the shy, awkward and caring Derek Stiles had just witnessed moments beforehand.    
  
And Derek does have a point. Stiles had been too embarrassed about almost braining himself on the tiled floor  _and_ he was self conscious about his big belly on display, so it's likely that his shirt rode up higher than he had expected.   
  
'Uh thanks. I appreciate it. Like a lot. I will use it straight away. Obviously not now because I'm still working - working? Is this classified as working? Because I'm currently watching frozen and being given free items and I'm not experiencing the struggles of-' he cuts himself off at Derek's slightly exasperated expression and blushes. 'Just. Thanks' he bites out and places the tub in his pocket, patting it awkwardly.   
  
Derek nods at him, eyes darting around the room and then he shuffles over to the other couch and sits down stiffly, training his eyes on the screen, watching as an ice castle erupts from the snow.   
  
Holy shit. Derek Hale spoke to him for the first time with a minimal display of aggression. Derek Hale gave him a 'magic ointment' because he saw Stiles' bruises. And he's now sitting on the couch. Watching Frozen. Derek Hale is sitting on the couch and he is watching Frozen.   
  
Stiles finds it very hard to focus on the movie after that.  
  
What has Stiles' life become.   
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know this chapter was pretty boring and dramaless (that ain't even a word but inventing words are fun, let me tell you) but I promise that there will be waaaay more drama later on in the form of Jackson and Matt, other jocks and Stiles' mental health. 
> 
> And also Derek. Gah, honestly Sterek are so cute.  
> I'm currently in a sad ish mood because I read a really sad and disturbing Sterek fic - the author said there'd be a happy ending so I continued reading with hope. 
> 
> Turns out the happy ending was quite sad and both of them are too broken to call their relationship a relationship. 
> 
> Sighs. Anyway, I've been feeling a bit better this week and hopefully I will be updating more frequently, I'm so so sorry about the slow updates as I know how annoying it is to constantly wait around for a new chapter. I'm honestly really sorry. 
> 
> PS. Milichka is Bulgarian for like... 'My dear' or 'sweetheart', basically I'm not exactly sure how to translate it to English but it's only used for girls. The male variant is Milichko. 
> 
> I feel like if you are still reading this long ass note you can practically feel the awkwardness radiating off me all the way to where you're situated and I don't know how to end this note so... it shall end here. Leave comments and yeep. Also please please let me know if you spot any mistakes as I don't have a beta. THANKS FOR READING AND PUTTING UP WITH THE LONG WAIT!

**Author's Note:**

> meh good? bad?   
> i'm surprised, this took me quite some time to write, probably cause i haven't written in such a long time  
> and also just in case, i'm aware that in American English 'pants' are the same as trousers but in British English pants are underwear, so that's what I meant when i kept referring to pants  
> feel free to correct me on any errors, I don't have a beta so all errors are mine


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